A World without Words
by Cassie Bones
Summary: Based on a tweet from the Queen herself, Miss Stana Katic. The MIME episode. It will be written like an episode in novel format. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so Stana herself has given me the inspiration to write this piece. It's based on one of her tweets urging for a mime episode, which she probably has all planned out already. I will be writing this like a real episode with chapter breaks as the 'commercial break' of sorts and so this should be done within five or six episodes and it might take a week or two but it will be quick and it won't get in the way of my other fics. I really hope you enjoy this and I want to hear your thoughts and once this is complete, I would like your help getting Stana's attention on it. Just tweet it and see if she likes it or wants to read it. Don't tweet it more than once (meaning YOU just tweet it once; don't worry about other people). Anyway, enjoy!**

**A World without Words**

Chapter One

Crickets chirping. Owls hooting. The distant sounds of car horns. New York City at night.

Central Park is empty, for the most part, but there are lamps lighting a path on which three teenage boys stumble, their arms around each other, holding each other up. They are high as a kite; a joint is held in one of their hands.

Two of the boys are older than the third. They're both dressed in leather coats and band shirts; one is Rancid and the other is Green Day. They're both wearing ripped jeans and black combat boots. Their hair is bleached blond and spiky, but not exactly punk. The youngest of the three is also shorter and more conservatively dressed. He wears a denim jacket over a Beatles shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. He wears plain red converse and his hair is short and brown. He is obviously new to the group.

They continue down the path, weaving slightly and snorting laughter every now and then, smiles etched on their faces.

"Man!" the kid with the Rancid shirt shouts. "This is some good sh—hey, what's that?" He points, with the joint, at a figure in the grass, far out of the reach of one of the streetlamps that shines over the path.

"Looks like…I dunno, man; I can't see," the Beatles kid replies. "Can I have another hit?" Rancid hand Beatles the joint and begins to stagger onto the grass, towards the figure. He squints down at the heap in the grass.

"Dude?" he says, stopping a safe distance away, just in case it's a trick. "Dude, are you okay?"

No answer.

Rancid turns back to his friends. "It's a guy!" he informs them. "But he's not saying anything or moving! I can't see him, though; do either of you potheads have a flashlight or a lighter or something?"

"I have a lighter!" Green Day says, pulling it out of his pocket. "Catch!" He throws it to Rancid and Rancid flinches. The lighter falls two feet in front of him.

"Nice throw, Buttface," Rancid calls, laughingly. He picks up the lighter and opens it, turning to the man on the ground and flicking it on, placing it over the figure, revealing a strip of black-and-white striped fabric; the man's shirt. He shines the lighter over the body until he reaches the face. The second that he sees the bulging, cloudy eyes and the puffy face of the man, whose face is pure white with black lipstick and black makeup around his eyes, he screams.

CUT TO

Kate Beckett sits up in her bed, sweating and panting. She looks all around her. The room is silent and dark, completely empty but for the bedroom furniture and the man sleeping next to her. Castle has his face pressed into the pillow; he shifts slightly, letting out a snore before settling and going still again.

Trying not to disturb him, Kate slides out of the bed, shaking her trembling hands before heading to the ensuite.

She closes the bathroom door before she turns on the light, surveying herself in the mirror. There are bags under her eyes and tear-streaks on her cheeks. She turns on the taps and fills her palms with water, ducking her head to wash her face. When she comes back up for air, she grabs a hand towel and dries herself, dabbing at the sweat on her forehead and chest.

She catches a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger and pauses, gazing at it before looking towards the door, thinking longingly of the man on the other side. She wants nothing more than to open the door, stride across the room, and crawl into his arms.

But that would be incredibly selfish, she thinks. Unloading all of her baggage on him, all at once; sharing these horrible nightmares with him about…that day. About him taking that bullet for her and having to watch as the life drained from _his _eyes as _she _cried over him, telling him that she loved him, begging him to stay with her. Only to have the scene shift to her mother's murder, seeing her in that alleyway, bleeding out in a pile of trash, _alone_, calling out _her _name.

Kate shut her eyes tight against the onslaught of images; flashes of her most recent nightmare. She takes a deep breath before she opens them again, staring herself down in the mirror. She attempts to get a handle on herself—calm herself down—before shutting off the light and heading back into the bedroom—_their _bedroom now; she'd moved in four months ago, in February. She can't believe that they've come this far in just five short years. It scares her and excites her at the same time.

She tiptoes across the room, as if her feet would make such a loud ruckus on the carpeted ground otherwise, and slips back under the covers, thankful that Castle doesn't even so much as grunt. She relaxes back into the mattress, turning onto her side and throwing one arm over his waist, intertwining her legs with him; spooning him. In his sleep, Castle reacts, one of his hands resting over hers. Kate smiles and presses a kiss to his shirt-covered back, before closing her eyes.

Before she can drift off, however, a shrill ringing jolts her up in the bed, pulling her away from Castle, who groans.

Kate sighs and turns to her bedside table, where the clock flashes 3:47 AM. She groans, as well, and grabs her phone, not even bothering to read the caller ID; she knows who it is.

"Beckett," she yawns, grinning slightly as Castle turns over and snuggles into her side, his face burying into her hair. She listens to the dispatcher's staticky voice as she runs her fingers through Castle's hair. She sighs. "Okay," she says, "I'll be there in twenty." She hangs up and Castle moans.

"Nooooo," he whines, wrapping his arm around her waist tightly. "Too early." Kate smiles and kisses his forehead before removing herself from his embrace.

"You stay here, then," she tells him, "and I'll just go. I'll see you later at the Precinct."

"No," Castle denies, petulantly. "You're not going out this late without me. Just give me ten minutes and coffee in an IV and I'll be set."

"How about _five _minutes and coffee in a mug?" Kate wagers.

"Deal," Castle mumbles, getting up and padding to the bathroom. Kate rolls her eyes and heads into the kitchen.

CUT TO

They arrive at the crime scene and waste no time in ducking under the yellow tape. Castle is still yawning and dragging his feet, but he tries to act upbeat as they approach Lanie, where she crouches next to the body.

"Hey, Lanie," Kate greets, "what have you got for us?"

"A wedgie and a bad mood," Lanie replies, "Why do people gotta kill people in the middle of the night? Why can't they just wait til sunrise like most people?"

"Inconsiderate bastards," Castle comments, dryly.

"You got that right," Lanie replies, sighing. "The vic is between thirty-five to forty years old and based on the way his eyes are poppin' outta his head right now, I'd say he was suffocated. And I think he was killed here, too, cuz there's no signs of dragging on the body or the grass leading here. There _is _some bruising on his hips though so I think the killer must have been straddling him when they finished him off."

"Good work," Kate says, surveying the victim, "Do we know why he's dressed like this?"

"Mime," a voice says behind them. Kate, Castle, and Lanie all turn to see Esposito and Ryan standing there, looking just as tired and grumpy as Lanie. Esposito holds up a plastic bag with a wallet in it. "Belongs to the vic. Had all his credit cards, cash, and ID's . Dude's name was Gene Faulker; age 38. He has a New Jersey Driver's License, three credit cards, and a membership card for the MAA."

"The what?" Kate asks.

"The Mime Association of America," Esposito replies. "And he was a recent addition, according to the initiation date on the card; joined less than six months ago."

"A _mime_?" Kate asks, groaning internally. Here it comes…

"That is _awesome_!" Castle exclaimed. "This is going to be the best case ever!"

There is a collective groan among the group as Castle practically bounces with excitement, smiling like a little boy on Christmas morning; suddenly very awake.

**COMMERCIAL! Lol. Reviews would be very helpful, thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's taken me so long to post this but I've had so much to do over the last couple of weeks! It's Thanksgiving this week, too, and my brother is coming up from DC so we're trying to get shit done before he gets here. Anyway, now back to Castle on .**

Chapter Two

"Dead?" Cailin Moore-Faulkner exclaims. Ryan and Espo had done some digging and found out that the vic had been married with two kids. His wife now sits across from Castle and Beckett in the break room, tears streaming down her eyes, looking completely distraught. "But we…I just saw him _two days _ago. How could he possibly be _dead_? He was perfectly healthy!" Her shoulders shake with a sob and Castle offers her his handkerchief.

Mrs. Faulkner thanks him and blows her nose, loudly and obscenely, before wiping her eyes and attempting to hand it back. Castle shakes his head. "Keep it," he insists. Cailin smiles, thankfully and turns back to Beckett.

"How did he die?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

Kate sighs; this is always the hardest part. "We believe," she says, "that Mr. Faulkner...might have been murdered."

"Murdered?" Cailin squeaks. "By who?"

"_Whom_," Castle corrects. Kate gives him a glare and turns to Cailin.

"We were hoping that you could tell us," she says. "Did Gene have any enemies, that you know of? Anybody that may want to hurt him?"

Cailin shakes her head. "Nobody that I can think of; everybody loved Gene! He was such a sweet man. He made friends everywhere he went; who on Earth would want to hurt him?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Kate replied with a sigh. "Was he close to anyone? Perhaps somebody in the _Mime _community?" She cannot believe she just said that. "Maybe a rival mime company?" It just keeps getting better.

Cailin scoffs. "A rival mime company? Detective, this is not a gang we're talking about here. These people do _children's parties_, for God's sake! I'm quite certain Gene was safe among them. Oh! Except…"

"Yes?" Kate asks, leaning forward.

"Well, recently, Gene's been complaining about some stalker. I forget her last name, but her first name definitely starts with a T…Tania or something. No matter. She's another mime, but she apparently takes it too seriously."

"Too seriously, how?" Kate asks.

"She's taken a vow of silence," Cailin informs them, "she won't even _sneeze _out loud, according to Gene. She's trained herself to be completely soundless. Kind of creepy, if you ask me." Kate nods, taking down a few notes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Faulkner. I just have one more question." Cailin nods. "What's the name of the mime company Gene was working for?"

CUT TO

"Mister Moon's Mimes," Ryan exclaims, slapping a flyer onto the murder board. "One of _three _mime companies in Lower Manhattan." He shakes his head. "Ridiculous; who would want to pay for a mime?"

Castle raises his hand. Ryan doesn't even turn to look at him.

"Besides you, I mean," he says, grinning. Castle lowers his hand and pouts. Kate grins and pats him on the knee before standing up and walking over to the board to stand in front of it, uncapping her pen and starting on the timeline.

"Mrs. Faulkner said that the last time she spoke with him was almost two days ago; he was about to travel for a gig and ended up staying at a hotel in Tarrytown overnight. Esposito checked and it was confirmed that Gene was there, but there were no other mimes there with him."

"So?" Castle asks.

"_So_," Kate says, "Gene told his wife that he was going with two other mimes from his company, yet he checked into the hotel _alone_, meaning that either he stayed at a different hotel or—"

"Or he lied," Castle finishes for her. "But why would he do that? And even if he didn't lie, why would he stay in a different hotel?"

"No idea," Kate says, "but Mrs. Faulkner, so far, is the last to have seen him alive and that was almost two days ago. Lanie places the vic's death between midnight and two AM this morning."

"In the city that never sleeps, you'd think somebody would report seeing someone choking a mime," Castle comments.

"Suffocating," Esposito corrects. "Lanie said something was placed over the vic's mouth and nose, keeping him from taking in any oxygen, but that he wasn't even attempting the fight back."

"Maybe he was drugged," Ryan suggests.

"Could be," Kate agrees, "but Lanie didn't find any puncture marks anywhere on his body, so it must have been something he ingested. We'll know more once the tox reports come in. Any leads on the company yet?"

"Yeah," Ryan says. "It's on 37th street. Espo and I are gonna go check it out now."

Esposito groans. "I don't want to go to no mime colony; what if they try locking me in some box?"

Kate snorts. "I think you can use an imaginary lock-picking kit and get yourself out," she teases.

Esposito rolls his eyes. "Ha ha," he deadpans.

"Hey, Javi," Castle says, suddenly, "if you don't want to go…I'll go."

"Really?" Espo asks. "You wanna go to a mime colony?"

"Who wouldn't?!" Castle exclaims. Espo gives him a look. "Oh, well…you, I guess. But all the better, then. You and Beckett can stay here and focus on the more…serious aspects of the case while Ryan and I go…"

"Have fun?" Beckett asks, grinning at her fiancé.

"Gather intel," Castle replies, cheekily. He turns back to Espo. "Deal?"

"Deal," Javier replies.

**COMMERCIAL!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So….I've broken a lot of promises today. I'm sorry this is taking such a long time to complete, guys, but it's finals week and I have a portfolio, two essays, and a huge exam this week and I've been swamped with school work, but, thankfully, the semester ends on Wednesday and I'll be off for a month so I'll have plenty of time for you guys in the weeks to come. Anyway, enjoy!**

Chapter Three

"Whoa," Ryan breathes as he and Castle enter the small studio. About a dozen men and women, of all shapes, sizes, and ages, are practicing the 'art' of mime on each other. Most are doing the classic 'box' trick, but a few others are practicing more complicated motions. One female mime falla as an invisible ball came down on her head, making it look like she's actually hurt. Castle and Ryan rush to her aid after she lays prone for too long, thinking she may have actually passed out, but she just shakes her head, laughing silently and assuring them, mutely, that she's okay.

Ryan and Castle help her up, still, just to make sure.

"Do you know this man?" Ryan asks, before she can walk away, showing her the picture Mrs. Faulkner had given him, of Gene. The woman's eyes widen and she nods, looking curiously back and forth between them. Her eyes are concerned, questioning.

Ryan and Castle share a look, and then Ryan turns to her. "Are you Tania?" he asks. The girl shakes her head and signs something, but Ryan doesn't quite catch it. "I'm sorry," he says, "but I don't speak sign language."

"I do," Castle says, shocking Ryan.

"_You _do?" he asks.

Castle nods. "She says her name is Tara—not Tania." The girl, Tara, now nods.

"Oh," Ryan says, his eyes wide. "I'm very sorry for the confusion." She waves it off.

"She says, it's okay," Castle translates."

"I got that," Ryan replies, "thanks, mime whisperer."

"Just trying to help," Castle says, putting his hands up in surrender.

Tara laughs, silently, but it looks as if it should be much louder. It's terrifyingly silent.

"Uh…okay," Ryan said, "so what was your relationship to Mr. Faulkner?"

Tara's hands start moving wildly and Castle finds it difficult to keep up. "Uh…they're lovers, having an affair behind his wife's back…can't tell her though because then she'll kill him…why did you say was?" Tara's eyes are wide and scared, looking from Castle to Ryan.

The men share a look.

"I'm sorry we have to tell you this way," Ryan says, "but Gene Faulkner has been found…murdered in Central Park."

Tears fill Tara's eyes and her body shakes with a silent sob as her head shakes, furiously. She repeatedly signs no, but Castle doesn't bother translate it; Ryan already knows.

"It gets worse, I'm afraid," Ryan says.

"How can it possible get worse?" Tara signs.

"It seems you're our prime suspect," Castle says, grimly.

Tara's eyes widen as he looks between the two of them, terrified.

CUT TO

Kate sits on her desk, her gaze on the murder board, but her mind elsewhere. She can't shake the flashes of memory from her earlier nightmare as they come, unbidden.

Scenes of Castle lying prone on the floor, at her feet; of Bracken stooping over her, laughing hysterically; of Alexis and Martha weeping over his casket, and glaring over at her, telling her that it's all her fault.

"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito's voice breaks her from her trance and she turns to him, blinking. "You okay?" he asks, noticing her slightly foggy-eyed expression. She nods.

"I'm fine," she replies, "just a little tired. What've you got?"

"Ryan and Castle found the stalker," Espo informs her, "they're bringing her in now."

"That was quick," Kate comments, standing and following him to the box.

"There aren't that many female mimes there, apparently," Espo comments. "But, just in case, they're bringing all the mimes in, and we're gonna try to get their statements."

"_All _of them?" Kate asks. "How many are there?"

"About a dozen," Espo replies.

"Well, this should be interesting," Kate sighs, watching as the first round of mimes strolls in through the elevator, ferried by a couple of unis and Castle, who is so enraptured by one of them that he doesn't even notice his fiancé, who's rolling her eyes at him and face-palming. Esposito laughs.

"Hey, you're the one who agreed to marry him," he teases and she elbows him in the ribs, before walking into the exam room, sitting down across from Tara…

"Maroon?" Kate says, sitting down as she reads Tara's file. "Is that a stage name?"

Tara shakes her head and shrugs. It's then that Kate remembers her vow.

"Miss…Maroon," she says, "could you possibly drop your silence for a moment to answer a few questions."

Tara shakes her head. "Right…" she turns to the glass. "Can somebody get me a translator please?"

When Castle enters the room, she regards him curiously. "Castle? What are you doing in here?" she asks.

"Translating," Castle replies, grinning at her before turning to the woman across the desk. "Tara," he greets.

"Mr. Castle," she replies.

"So," Kate says, sighing, "shall we get started then?"

They interview every single mime for hours. At least half can sign, or mime their answers to the questions, and Castle interprets them for Kate as she writes them down. Only one mime speaks his answers, not really all that serious about the miming business other than what it brings to the table for his family. Kate is thankful for at least that much.

Unfortunately, every single mime has an alibi—some had parties to perform at, others had families to get home to—even Tara, who'd been their main suspect.

"I was working in New Jersey," she signs, "and I had to stay there overnight." She gives them the name of the hotel she'd stayed at and the name of the family who'd hired her. Kate sighs as she crosses her off the suspect list.

"Well that's a bust," Esposito murmurs, tearing down the last of the mime suspects from the list. The space is now glaringly blank, mocking them.

"There has to be somebody else," Kate says, grasping. "A man doesn't just get killed by a random stranger in the park—not without being robbed, of course. There must be _somebody _who was out to get him."

"There just may be," Ryan says, entering the bullpen, brandishing a piece of paper. He hands it to Kate and she scans it, her eyes widening as she reads. As she looks back up at Ryan, a smile spreads over her features.

"I think we've got it," she says.

**REVIEWS please! How's it going so far?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well….I have no excuses.**

Chapter Four

"Mister…Lee? Is that your name?" Kate asks the man sitting across the table from her, who is dressed in full-out mime garb, down to the black and white make up on his face. He nods, dramatically. The woman sitting next to him rolls her eyes.

"Yes," she grumbles. "This is Mister David Lee," she clarifies, "President of the MAA. What is this all about, Detective? We were in the middle of a party."

"_We_?" Castle asks, eyeing the woman's gray business suit and modest non-costume makeup.

"Yes," the woman replies, "we. I am the receptionist-slash-accountant-slash-publicist. I book party appearances, events, etc. One of our more _respected_ clients on the Upper East Side was having her grandson's birthday party when you so _rudely _interrupted. We'll be lucky if she ever uses our services again!"

"And your name is?" Beckett asks.

"Olivia Mason-Lee," the woman answers, crisply. "I am David's half-sister," she eyes her brother, who looks to be making a small box on the table, and sighs, "sadly."

"Yeah, well you have bigger things to worry about than some rich lady's birthday party," Beckett replied, rolling her eyes and placing a photo on the table, in front of Mister Lee. "Do you recognize this man?"

David looks down at the photograph and his jaw drops, comically, before he glances up at Castle and Beckett and nods, pointing to it and then making some sort of gesture. Kate and Castle both tilt their heads in confusion.

"What?" Kate asks, glancing at Olivia. Olivia sighs.

"Yes, he recognizes that man," she translates. "I recognize him, too. That's Gene, one of our more…successful mimes."

"Successful?" Kate asks.

Olivia nods. "Yes," she says, "he's only been with us a few months, but he's raked in plenty of customers and made us a lot of money, so whatever it is he did, we can most certainly make bail." Olivia takes out a checkbook and begins to write a check, but Kate stops her.

"That won't be necessary, Miss Lee," she says, gently.

"That bad?" Olivia asks, eyes wide.

"Worse," Castle says, gravely, "he's dead."

Suddenly, David flies out of his chair and onto the ground, startling both Castle and Beckett. Olivia Mason-Lee, however, doesn't even seem to notice him. She's looking at her hands on the table, her face having gone white as a sheet.

"D-dead?" she gasps. "B-but h-how?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Kate assures her, gently, before glancing concernedly at the fallen mime. "Is he okay?"

Olivia spares an annoyed glance at her brother, who's lying completely still with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Oh, he's fine," she assures them. "He's just playing dead. He used to do that a lot when we were kids. Scared the crap out of our—_my_ mother, more than once."

"You're mother?" Castle asks. Olivia nods.

"We're half-siblings," she reveals. "Same father; different mothers. His died when he was four and I was eight, so he came to live with us."

"Your parents were married and yet your father had a younger child?" Castle asked.

"I don't believe that's any of your concern," Olivia snaps. "Now can we get back to Gene? What happened to him? Did somebody kill him? Is that why we're here? You think _David _killed him?"

"We're not sure right now," Kate says, "but we're looking into every possible lead and, yes, your brother seems to be at the top of the list."

"But _look _at him!" Olivia cries, pointing towards her still prone brother, lying on the floor. "He couldn't hurt a fly. Especially since all he uses are invisible fly-swatters."

"Well, we have evidence that suggests otherwise," Kate replies, calmly, pulling another sheet of paper from her folder and pushing it across the table. "Less than a month ago, Mr. Faulkner pressed assault charges against your brother for hitting him over the head with a two-by-four. How do you explain that?"

Olivia sighs and glances at her brother, before leaning in to whisper to the detective. "My brother is not well, Detective," she said, "as you can clearly see." Kate and Castle glance at the mime, who barely looks like he's even breathing. "He's been that way since he was a child. My father always used to say it was PTSD from losing his mother so young, but I think that that's just the way he is. He was born mute and that probably didn't help matters. The only way he communicates is through mime and he gets really aggressive when people don't listen, but he's on medication that relaxes him. Gene was the only person in over thirty years that David has even laid a hand on and he did it because I forgot to give him his meds that morning, so that's on me. I even explained that to Gene, who dropped the charges practically the next day. My brother wouldn't hurt anybody, I swear it."

"We're still going to need an alibi, Miss Lee. Where was David between midnight and two AM this morning?" Kate asks.

"He was sleeping," Olivia replies.

"Who can confirm this?" Kate asks, opening her notepad.

"I can," Olivia informs her. "David lives under my care and every night I have to give him two sleeping pills. Knocks him out for hours; it's impossible for him to get up at that time without my noticing."

"Are you sure he took the pills, though?" Castle asks. "He could have just hidden them under his tongue or something."

"I'm positive," Olivia replies. "I always check. Besides, his bedroom door and the front door both have bells and alarms and I'm not exactly a light sleeper. He didn't leave," she finishes firmly. "Of that, I can assure you."

x-X

"I really hate this case," Kate groans, rubbing her temples as she sits at her desk.

"Ditto," Castle replies, sitting next to her. "There has to be somebody who hated him enough to strangle him to death."

"Maybe it was a sexual thing," Esposito offers, walking by to his desk. "Him and a secret lover getting a little action that maybe went a little too far?"

"Lanie said that there was no sign of sexual contact," Kate sighs. "We've got nothing."

"Well, we'll have even less if we don't take a little rest and make up for the sleep we lost, right?" he says, offering his hand. "Come on, let's go home, have something for dinner and then we go right into Snoozeville and pick this back up tomorrow, with clear heads."

Kate smiles and nods, taking his hand. "That sounds good, actually. Ryan, Espo, you head home, too. Get some rest."

The boys nod and say goodbye before grabbing their things and practically running out.

"Well," Castle says, glancing at Kate, "they really don't waste time, do they?"

x-x

Kate's sleeping soundly in their bed, wrapped in Castle's warm embrace when the next dream hits her.

_She can't breathe. It feels as if her lungs are full of water or lead or something and she can't breathe. She tries to open her eyes but it's like they're glued shut or something and everything is black and she can't breathe._

_Then she feels the pressure on her hips and she can tell that somebody is above her; she can hear them laughing. It's a man and he's…saying something. But she can't quite make it out because the lack of air is making her dizzy and light-headed and—_

Kate sits up in bed, breathing heavily and looking around. She's in their bedroom, with Castle right next to her, his head nestled against her waist. She's sweating and breathing heavily and Castle's arm around her waist is suffocating, reminds her of her dream and she just has to get away.

She looks over at the clock and sees that it's five in the morning—perfect time for a jog.

She extracts herself from his grip, breathing a sigh of relief when Castle barely stirs, wrapping himself around a pillow and kissing it, whispering her name in his sleep. The sight would be almost comical if Kate weren't so envious of that bloody pillow, wishing it was her that he was holding in his arms, kissing all her troubles away, whispering her name in her ear…

She shakes those thoughts off as she gets ready for her jog. She grabs a pair of sweats, an old t-shirt and one of Castle's sweatshirts, slips on a pair of running shoes, and throws her hair into a ponytail, before grabbing her keys, iPod, and phone, sparing one last glance at Castle's sleeping form and running out the door.

It's what she does best, anyway.

**REVIEWS….please?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this story is taking so long but writing mysteries is bloody difficult. Props to Andrew, Terri, the Creaseys, and every other writer for this brilliant show; you guys a brilliant with this shit and I suck. Enjoy!**

Chapter Five

Kate is halfway through Central Park when she gets the call. She stops, immediately, catching her breath before answering the phone.

"Beckett," she gasps.

"Oh, geez," Espo's voice floats through the line, "I'm sorry; I didn't want to interrupt anything. I'll call you back in—"

"Esposito," Kate sighs, "I was _running._"

"Oh." He sounds relieved. Kate rolls her eyes.

"Is there a reason you called?" she urges.

"Oh, yeah! Um, tox reports came back…"

"This early in the morning?" Kate asks, checking her watch. Her eyes widen at the time.

"It's eight," Esposito says what she already knows. "How long have you been running?"

"Doesn't matter," Kate replies. "What did the reports say?"

"Our vic was drugged; Rohypnol. A pretty lethal dose, too. Woulda killed him in a matter of minutes."

"Then why the strangulation?" Kate asks, taking a seat and stretching out her legs. It will be a long walk back to the loft and she doesn't have enough money for a cab. How could she have run for nearly three hours without noticing?

"Dunno," Espo answers. "Maybe the ruffies weren't working fast enough for her?"

"Her?" Kate asks.

"Yep," her partner answers. "Lanie said that the finger marks around the vic's throats were too small to be a man's and judging from the bruises under Faulkner's knees, the perp couldn't be taller than 5'6."

"Which is normal height for a woman," Kate sighs. "Okay, well bring back the wife; maybe she got a little too tired of this mime thing and snapped."

"On it," Esposito replies. "Oh and, before I forget, call your fiancé. Dude's in a panic; says he can't get through to you."

Kate furrows her brows and looks at her phone. She has three missed calls, all from Castle. "Damn," she says. "Okay. Thanks, Espo. I'll see you soon."

"See ya, Boss," he replies, before the line goes dead.

Kate quickly dials Castle. He picks up on the second ring. "Kate?"

"Hey, babe," she says, "sorry I missed your calls. I was running and I kinda…zoned out."

Castle takes a deep breath. "It's okay," he says, understandingly. "How long have you been out?"

"Only a couple hours," Kate replies. "It feels like I haven't gone jogging in _years_!" She stretches a little bit, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear. "I just needed a little exercise. I thought I'd be back before you woke up."

"Oh," Castle says, "well next time wake me so we can go running together."

Kate barks out a laugh before she can stop herself. "Sorry, honey, but I've seen you try to run before; unless your ass if on fire, you run like a snail."

"Gee, I love you, too," Castle replies, sarcastically, and she snorts.

"Maybe we'll go _walking_ one day, okay? Just you and me. Deal?"

"Deal. Did Espo call you?" Castle asks.

"Yeah," Kate replies, "just a couple minutes ago. They're bringing in the wife as we speak."

"Wanna meet at the Precinct?"

"I'm all sweaty and my change of clothes is kind of…dirty," Kate replies, making a mental note to replace the blood-splattered blouse and pants in her locker.

"I'll bring you a new one," Castle promises. "Just take a shower in the locker room and I should be there by the time you get out."

Kate smiles softly, thankful he can't see her blush. What has she ever done to deserve a man so sweet? "Thanks," she says. "Nothing too tight, please. And I'd like to wear my black boots; the Neiman Marcus ones."

"If I bring the wrong ones, don't kill me," Castle replies, laughingly. Kate rolls her eyes.

"Bye," she says, "I love you."

"Love you, too," Castle replies, before hanging up. Kate sighs, dropping her phone into her jacket pocket and starting in the direction of the Precinct.

She has to tell him.

X_x

Kate enters the interrogation room an hour later, a file and coffee in her hands. She hands the coffee to Mrs. Faulkner and takes a sip of her own as she sits down.

"So," Kate starts, "you were filing for divorce."

Mrs. Faulkner sighs. "Hello to you, too, Detective," she says, sarcastically.

Kate ignores the sarcasm and plows on. "Why didn't you say anything about the divorce?" she asks.

"I figured it would make me prime suspect," the woman replies, honestly.

"Well _not _telling us made it a little worse, don't you think?" Kate retorts, dryly.

"Perhaps," the widow replies, "but it was worth a try."

"Were you even upset by your husband's passing?" Kate asks.

"Of course I was!" the suspect replies, affronted. "He was the father of my children! My daughter hasn't stopped crying since she learned of his death. My son is distraught. I would never do anything to hurt them."

"But you _would _hurt your husband," Kate says, stoically, "is that right?"

"Not lethally," the woman attempts. "I might slap him, kick him in the groin—and I have—but I swear, I would not kill him. I would have nothing to gain."

"Not like from a divorce, am I right?" Kate replies, looking over the file. "It looks like you signed a pre-nup. You would receive nothing if your husband were to divorce you—or you, him—but if he were to die…"

"I would still receive nothing," the woman finishes for her, somewhat annoyed. "My husband's will clearly states that our two children, David and Emily, are to inherit their father's savings and whatever estate at the age of 18, at which time I would have no control over the funds. So I must reiterate, I did _not _murder my husband."

"Do you have an alibi?" Kate asks, opening her notepad and clicking her pen open.

Cailin nodded. "Emily's been sick with some kind of stomach virus. She was up for half the night, emptying her stomach and lying in bed with me. You can call her school; she has been absent for the last couple of days. David's starting to get the same thing, so I should really be heading back home to my children now, Detective, if you don't mind…" she starts to get up.

"Sit back down, please," Kate orders and the woman's backside returns to her seat. "Just one more question; how tall are you?"

The question catches the woman by surprise, but she recovers gracefully. "About five foot seven," she informs the detective, "why?"

Kate sighs, deflated. "Never mind," she says, "you can go. But…don't leave town." Cailin nods and stands, walking out of the interrogation room.

Kate leans forward, resting her head in her hands. She's exhausted, but that's what she gets from only about five hours of sleep, she supposes. She tries to relax her body; maybe she can catch a couple hours of…

"Beckett!"

She jumps, nearly falling out of the chair and looks up to see Ryan standing there, his eyes wide in surprise. "You okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," Kate grouses. "What's up?"

He holds up a file.

"You're gonna wanna see this."

**COMMERCIAL BREAK!**

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